


When He Pulls Away

by realityisiron



Series: Watch Me, Lovely [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Nightmares, Pining Allura (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisiron/pseuds/realityisiron
Summary: You've gotten yourself into something you might not be able to handle, Allura.~ ~ ~ ~ ~Chapter 9 of "Watch Me, Lovely" from Allura's point of view.





	When He Pulls Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to make zero sense if you haven't read the first 8 chapters of "Watch Me, Lovely". However, I recommend you read chapter 9 before you read this one. It's pretty much the same content, except from Allura's perspective.
> 
> Also this might look familiar because I posted this on Tumblr first, written for Bosstoaster's writing prompt that she sent me.

He didn’t want to stay in her room.

Shiro hadn’t said that of course, but Allura liked to think she wasn’t totally oblivious to other people’s feelings. They’d discussed having him sleep in her room to maximize what little time they had to prepare for the council meeting. They had an entire Keth to build together (well,  _fake_  together, but Allura couldn’t help but hope that maybe…). Shiro and Allura had contact to adjust to, closeness to get comfortable with. Shiro had accepted the idea without argument, and while a part of Allura wanted to believe it was because he felt something for her, she knew it was the exact opposite.

From the beginning Allura had suspected he was saying yes to the whole thing out of obligation. It would be just like him, after all.

There had been moments where she’d allowed herself to think that wasn’t true. But even as she had wiped away the sweat and cum from his skin – tracing the edge of a burn scar that spread over his left side, his eyes had flickered to the door.

What was the point in even suspecting anymore?

Still, Allura couldn’t complain. She’d consented to the situation just like he had. But she had also consented to hiding feelings in plain sight and pining after him with her lips pressed against the hollow of his throat and the line of his collarbone and the curve of his spine.

Having sex with the man she had feelings for wasn’t something Allura had been worried about. Sex could be separate. In Altean culture it often was. It could be anything the people involved wanted it to be: wild, rough, sensual, easy, harsh, soft. She’d been just friends with most of her past partners, and the sex had been so many things. Awkward and silly at first, sometimes yes, but always great in some way or another.

So no, Allura definitely hadn’t been concerned with her crush while having sex with Shiro.

But that had been when she assumed they both could at least have fun for the next five quintants.

Shiro ran his human hand over the sheets, smoothing out the places he’d gripped  _just_ a little roughly – Allura had  _loved_  watching his fingers scrabble and flex, his brow furrowed as he tried desperately not to rip them. Even now – taking in the sheets haphazardly pushed this way and that, bunched closer to the foot of the bed where Shiro’s feet had pressed to meet her thrust for thrust – Allura couldn’t help but smile, her gaze bright in the dark.

She’d been having  _fun_.

But his gaze was morose as he traced the folds that told of their night together. There was melancholy in how he pressed them flat, no affectionate thought quirking his lips upward, nothing sparking in the gray of his eyes.

Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe for him this would only ever be the duty of the Black Paladin.

_You’ve gotten yourself into something you might not be able to handle, Allura._

“Do you want your shirt back?” she asked, holding it up with a small smile. It dangled from her index finger, a mark of her earlier triumph at getting it off in the first place. The sheer tightness of the shirt that unapologetically showcased his pecs day in and day out had mocked her for weeks. Therefore, it had met justice for its crimes. Allura had all but ripped it off his body when she got the chance.

Shiro stared at it, expression flat. “And die of heat in the middle of the night?” he quipped.

Allura snorted, letting it drop back to the floor. “Do you want to wear something else?”

“I brought something to change into but…” Even in the dim light of her headboard Allura could see Shiro’s lips pressing together with uncertainty. “I wasn’t sure if it was alright to wear it if I’m to be your Kethelin.”

“You can wear whatever you need to be comfortable.”

Knowing that, Shiro got back into the bed with a v-neck sleep shirt and a loose pair of pants. Allura didn’t mind staying naked, but his gaze was still shooting back to the door whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.

She didn’t want to give him any more reason to bolt.

Back in her shift, Allura found her way under the covers.

“Shiro, is it alright if I touch you while we sleep?” she asked, glancing his way beneath her eyelashes. “I think it’d be another way for us to get used to touching each other if we want everything to be natural by the meeting.”

Which was true. Practice made perfect, and when she wasn’t earning moans and gasps and those delightful human orgasms from him during the meeting, she’d still be touching him casually, pressing her nose to the nape of his neck and running hands over all his hard-earned muscles.

But it was still cruel. So cruel of her to say that.

Because if he really was doing this out of obligation, there’d be no way for him to say no when she told him it would help with the mission.

Allura immediately wanted to take the words back. She didn’t want to force him into this. It would hurt if he left, but it wouldn’t be right to manipulate him into saying yes. 

Shiro’s gaze shot from the door back to her where she sat waiting for his answer. “Of course, pri- Allura.”

For all that she had already touched every part of him – parts of him that she was sure (and hoped) hadn’t been touched since before Kerberos – Shiro stilled when she slid her body up against his. What he was waiting for, she couldn’t guess, but he was stiff until the moment she raised her body a little higher, so that her right hand could settle over his shoulder blades and she could tuck his head and that damnably adorable tuft of white hair under her chin.

The tension seeped out of him immediately.

Huh.

He still felt skittish inside her embrace – still felt like he didn’t want to be there, not for this, not with her – but he touched her back, sliding a warm and calloused hand along the swell of her hip, shifting soft and silky fabric. Maybe he didn’t mind so much. Maybe the situation was just new.

That could be it, couldn’t it?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Allura had been so stupid.

Did Shiro not like being next to her? Was that one of the reasons he wanted to leave her room?

Allura didn’t know.

But the shout that woke her two vargas later made it obvious what the main reason was.

Shiro had night terrors.

She should have guessed that.

Allura tightened her grip on him – not enough to hurt, just a bit so he wouldn’t wrench away and off the bed. He continued to thrash, breathing heavy as he shouted garbled words the castle couldn’t translate fast enough. Not all the words were recognizable, maybe phrases he had picked up from other prisoners – new languages the castle didn’t know, but none of them seemed good as he writhed, violent gasps interrupting the string of frantic sounds.

It took a conscious effort for Allura to loosen her grip. She didn’t let go, but she gave him room to push against her, to feel the warmth and give of flesh where he swore cold irons would be.

In her arms, he was so devastatingly fragile.

She wanted to squeeze, but didn’t want him to shatter. The rational part of her said he wouldn’t.

But even so.

When Allura had tossed Shiro into the Galran escape pod, he had felt sturdy, solid, strong. Of course he had. He was the Black Paladin, her trusted fellow leader, their steady friend, a part of the universe’s greatest chance against Zarkon. His gaze could be soft and warm just as easily as it could be hard and focused. The paladins knew he would give them firm guidance and confident advice; he would say what he meant even if it wasn’t what they wanted to hear. Shiro had been beaten down and faced consequences and bent rules and come out on top, even if it meant clawing his way there until his fingers turned to bone and blood.

By accident or design – though they all knew which was more likely – Shiro had made it so easy to forget that he was struggling.

Sometimes, but not always.

Even so, it was startling to have Shiro pressed against her and bursting at the seams with memories she couldn’t possibly know, unraveling between full-body jerks and shuddering gasps.

She knew he wasn’t weak. He had weaknesses, but that didn’t make him weak. Having moments where he wasn’t sure which way was up, what was real, where he was – it didn’t make him weak.

But whether or not he knew that, it did mean that Allura needed to do something. If she could help, she  _wanted_ to.

_But what do I do?_

When the castle, poisoned by the Galra’s crystal, had tricked her into seeing Altea where none existed, Coran had reminded her of where she really was. He had made her question what she saw, and realize on her own what reality was.

Okay. It was a start.

“Shiro, it’s Allura.” Hopefully that was okay. She wanted him to know who she was. It wouldn’t matter what she said if he didn’t trust the sound of her voice. “I’m your friend Allura. You woke me from sleeping in for another ten thousand years. I talk to mice. You call me princess. But I want you to call me Allura. You’re trying.” Shiro’s fingers dug into her shoulders, and Allura winced. He was using all his strength, something he usually reserved for when they sparred. “Hm… I showed you the black lion, and you were nervous she wouldn’t fly for you.” Allura smiled, which was hard to do when Shiro was shaking and hyperventilating in her hold, that grip of his becoming more like steel every tic. But it was just as hard not to smile when she remembered seeing the oldest and seemingly most assured of the humans stand before the black lion with such awe, tentatively reaching out to touch her paw, his eyes wide like a child watching their first rain.

“We have food fights in the castle. The goo gets in your hair. It turns your bangs green for at least five vargas on a good day. Sometimes you don’t sleep at night. Sometimes I don’t either.” Shiro’s shouting had quieted, reduced to panicked murmuring between mouthfuls of air as his eyes scanned the room, daring shadows to show him what they were hiding. “When that happens, you and I sit in the control room together. I scroll through the universe. You tell me more about the other paladins. You tell me I should try bonding with them more. I tell you that you should, too. Less training. More fun…” The murmurs stopped. His gaze was trained on her luminescent eyes in the dark. “We train most of the time,” Allura whispered sadly, running her hand up into the soft hair of his undercut and pulling him back into her. “We shouldn’t do that.”

There was no more to say after that. The words ran dry in her chest. All that was left to do was wait. Breathe. The erratic rising and falling of his chest mellowed, and he matched her breath for breath.

Her eyelids were heavy with almost-sleep when he spoke, voice rough and low.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have just left when we finished. I haven’t slept in the same room as someone since before the Galra…” His arms curled around her despite his words, pressing them closer. “I thought something like this would happen.”

Allura turned Shiro’s head into her throat and gave a low hum – something she hadn’t done since before her long sleep, back when Altea was around and that was how her people comforted each other. “No matter what I may suggest, Shiro, you always have the right to say no. You know that right? We talked about it yesterday-”

“I know… I just haven’t cuddled someone in a long time. I…” Shiro’s fingers worried at the fabric of her shift, flexing restlessly at the folds bunched around her hips and the curve of her spine. “I missed it,” he whispered.

He was going to pull away again. Allura felt it in her bones, and she tightened her arms around him before he could consider it further.

“Shiro, I’m not sorry you’re here, and I’m not sorry you stayed. I just want you to know that if we keep going is up to you, and if you’d feel better in your own room by yourself, that’s fine with me. But if you’re going to head back to your room because you think you’re going to bother me… you don’t. None of this bothers me. If you’re okay sleeping here, I want you sleeping here.” Allura pressed a human kiss to the top of his head, barely even a brush of lips on hair, too quick and soft for him to feel. There was a rapid heartbeat thudding against her skin, but she didn’t know if it was Shiro’s, or just her own being just as vocal as it was used to. “So what do you want?”

“I… I want…” Shiro swallowed, pressing his forehead into her neck. “I want to be small.”

“Small?”

“I guess that sounds weird, huh? I just- I always have to be the bigger person. I have to look out for everyone; I have to make sure everyone’s okay. And I  _want_ to do all those things. I would protect all of you even if it killed me.” She’d heard as much from Keith, a story about a wounded man at a campfire telling Keith he could lead Voltron if the man ever died. A sweet sentiment in theory, but one that made her heart feel pressed into a space too small. “But sometimes… sometimes I wish I could be small and let someone else be the bigger person. I want to be small… but still safe.”

Oh.

Suddenly Allura understood.

When she had tucked his head beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around him he had felt small. Small and safe.

It made her chest feel warm and fuzzy.

Allura didn’t say anything as she thought that over. The silence stretched until Shiro, evidently, couldn’t take it anymore. He chuckled, short and rough against her collarbone, fingers hovering above her skin. “Is this more Kethelin practice?”

Allura stiffened.

_How can he say that?_

She’d touched him because she wanted to help him and be there for him, because they were friends and he had been through so much already, because he’d spent dozens of nights having these night terrors alone and she wanted to do what she could. It hadn’t sounded like an accusation. His laugh had been casual, light-hearted.

But it was an accusation all the same.

He thought she was only doing this so he could practice.

_Because that’s all this is for him, Allura. You knew that._

She had, but it didn’t make the persistent pounding of her heart any less painful in her chest.

“I think we’ve had enough practice for today,”

The warm breath against her skin stopped. Shiro’s fingers dug into her skin, his whole body tight against her.

And then it all melted away.

It was nothing new when Shiro pulled away. He had done it before. It didn’t matter that they all could see the ghosts dancing on his eyelids and the scars being gained anew every time he had a flashback. There were moments where he flinched away from a sudden touch, a joking elbow jab, a playful  _thwack_  of someone’s tablet against the meat of his thigh when he did something so utterly  _Shiro_. The unspoken questions came like lightning. Had the hit that gave him the scar beneath the touch been just as quick? Had a joke gone too far?

But every time Shiro pulled away with ease, tucking it all away before they could do anything more. Pain was secreted away behind a strong set of his jaw and the determined dip of his dark eyebrows. The more anyone on the castle tried to grasp at the pain, the quicker he snatched it back.

Not this time. This time he was sluggish as he fumbled with his legs still interwoven with hers, blundering through the shifting of his weight. Then Shiro got his bearings, and in a beat his body slipped from her’s. Blankets pooled at his waist and whispered against his still flushed skin as he sat up. “Of course,” he murmured, head still bowed, eyes trained on something invisible deep beneath the mattress.

Oh.

He hadn’t seen it as practicing either.

_“I haven’t cuddled someone in a long time. I… I missed it.”_

Her heart pressed against the backs of her ribs, desperate to work its way through the gaps in between and reach for him if she didn’t. But the rest of her body caught up, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position to slip a hand through the tense air between them. Long, dark fingers hovered a breath from the curve of his jaw. That was where she waited, watching with cerulean eyes as his gaze slowly drifted upwards, a dark and misty gray. He found her hand a thought away from his face and froze, that gaze snapping to hers in confusion.

But even then, he kept it reigned in. Even when he was so,  _so_  unsure, he kept his look as steady as he could in the middle of the castle’s decided night.  _Why can’t you just be scared?_  Why did he have to be on top of every moment, prepared and grounded and sure?  _Was it the Garrison?_

“We’ve been through a lot.”  _It’s not fair, how much you’ve been through._  “I don’t want this for the council. I’d rather this be for us.” She didn’t want him to hide again. Maybe, if she told him she also needed it (and maybe she did), he wouldn’t pull away.

But Allura didn’t want to lie either.

“I’d rather this be for you,” she added in a whisper.

Shiro’s mouth dropped, if only by a hair, and even without touching Allura could feel his fine trembling beneath her fingertips.

She licked her lips, uncertain herself as he continued to stare at her. “I want to be the bigger person for you. If that’s what you want too.”

This time, his gaze flickered not to the door, but to her hand and her face.

A sigh escaped his lips. Her hand drifted up and he pressed against it, not unlike the cats of Earth that Pidge had told Allura so much about. “Yeah,” Shiro breathed, voice ragged.

A smile pulled at her lips. “Okay.” She spread her arms, letting her wrists settle on her knees, welcoming, waiting. “Come here, Shiro.”

He jolted, eyes going wide. She must’ve thrown him off. The request was admittedly a little abrupt.

“Please?”

Sometimes things could be as simple as that.

He fell forward and into the crook of her neck. It felt like slow motion, like he wouldn’t reach her in this lifetime, and Allura was a heartbeat away from snatching his waist and pulling him to her when his forehead finally touched her shoulder.

It took a moment to adjust again. Arms sought places where they wouldn’t go numb with time, and legs tangled together once more. Allura brought herself up so she could gather Shiro against her chest, and if she cheated a few inches of height and pounds of muscle just in case well, surely no one could blame her. If Shiro wanted to be small, she could be the bigger person – maybe in a more literal sense than he’d intended, but then again maybe not. There was no way to hide him from the nightmares. The past could not be undone. He’d be dealing with that the rest of his life.

But – even if only for the handful of nights they had before the meeting – she could be there to help him through it, and that would have to be enough for her.

Her presence didn’t end the night terrors (she hadn’t thought it would). A few vargas later he woke screaming, frantically murmuring about the blood on his hands, the blood he couldn’t wash off and couldn’t stop seeing and couldn’t stop smelling.

Allura kept her sentences short, her words slow. It wasn’t perfect; he fought her every step of the way, but with time he rested his head on her chest again, and they breathed together, in and out and in and out. She guided him through the castle with her words, ended in her room with the soft, cool sheets wrapped around them, the old Altean sleep shirt he was wearing, the warmth of his body healthy and tired.

It took half a varga to calm him down, but eventually he fell asleep again. Her front pressed to his back; her soft fingers traced scars along his abdomen; her nose nuzzled into his hair.

Cuddling, huh?

When the meeting ended and they broke the Keth, she was going to miss it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](https://realityisiron.tumblr.com/)! Come say 'hi'!


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